Film Nerd 2.0 turns a corner during an emotional viewing of 'Where The Wild Things Are'

When I was at the Toronto Film Festival recently, I had a chance to talk to Spike Jonze about his new film "Her" and several other subjects. In particular, I told him a story about sharing "Where The Wild Things Are" with my sons and how it represented a major turning point in the emotional life of my family. He seemed struck by what I said, and I told him that I was planning to write about the experience for my ongoing Film Nerd 2.0 column.

The truth is, I've been struggling to figure out how to write this one for a while now, ever since the screening, and it's been difficult to find the right way in. Even considering how personal much of this column has been, this one has been hard for me to grapple with because, unlike many of these columns, this one isn't all warm and fuzzy. I am well aware that I spend more time talking about my kids in print than some people might like. I have gotten e-mails and comments and direct messages from many people asking me to either scale it back or stop altogether. "I just want to read movie reviews," one guy e-mailed me, "and I don't give a shit what your kids think."

Fair enough.

My kids are so much a part of my work because they have absolutely rewired me. I am not the same anything I was before they were born. Having children changed every part of my life, and that includes the way I watch and process movies. There are things that hit me in a different place emotionally, and there are many things that I feel like I'm seeing for the first time because of how radically I've shifted in perspective. When I write about these experiences for this column, I am aware that I am sharing something very personal, and I've tried to be very precise in how I've rendered the boys and their reactions to things. I've written about mistakes I've made in judgment and things that they said that never occurred to me, and I think I've done a fair job of showing both the pitfalls and the pleasures of programming a media diet for your kids.

Everything is not always sunshine and lollipops, though, and it would be dishonest of me to try to paint it that way. Parenting is hard work, emotionally speaking, and so is marriage, and the two of them together, along with work and money and stress and everything else, can just wear you down. I feel like most days, I juggle all of it well enough, but there are days when anyone would be challenged.

My single worst quality, bar none, is that I have a volcanic temper. I have days where I handle that well, and days where I don't, and when I am having a bad day, I do my best to stay out of everyone's way. I am self-aware enough to not want my kids to see that side of me. I would rather turn on a fighting game for twenty minutes and take out my frustrations on some digital avatar desperately in need of a broken spine than vent on the people around me.

In addition, I am married to an Argentinian woman, and she is certainly not shy about voicing her own displeasure. I think calling us a loud couple would be accurate at times. During all of it, I have tried to keep any discord away from the kids, and I would say I've been partially successful at best. As they get older, they seem far more aware when things aren't great between us, and I am starting to worry that all of that is getting in there somehow, messing them up in ways we won't know for some time to come.

Because the reality of it is that you never know what they're picking up until you see the ways it is reflected back to you, and recently I had an experience that I found fairly humbling, all because James Gandolfini died.

Like many people, I found the news of his demise terrifically sad. I was away from home when it happened, in Santa Fe where Disney was holding their press event for "The Lone Ranger." When I got back, I pulled three Blu-rays off my shelf to watch as a way of celebrating Gandolfini and his work. Last year's "Killing Them Softly" featured a great supporting role for him that seems even more painfully appropriate in light of his passing, and it's really sad, beautiful work. I find his performance in "In The Loop" insanely funny. He is one of the few people who has ever stood toe to filthy toe with Peter Capaldi trading profanity like they're throwing fists, and I love it.

Then there was the third film I picked, something that might not be on the top of everyone's Gandolfini list but that means quite a bit to me. I chose "Where The Wild Things Are."

I'm a big fan of the film, and here's what I wrote about Gandolfini's work when I published my review in 2009:

… If there were an Oscar given for voice work, Gandolfini would be this year's no-contest winner. I've always loved the way his voice is at odds with his physicality. He's such a big guy, but he's got that mush-mouthed baby voice that seemed like the perfect expression of Tony Soprano's childish id. Here, he uses his own natural out-of-breath mumble to perfect effect, playing Carol as a creature of almost pure whim, swinging from high to low sometimes in the space of a few sentences. He bonds with Max before anyone else, and probably to a greater extent than anyone else, but in giving himself up so completely, Carol also lays himself open to disappointment and sorrow. He wants to believe in Max as a great king. He wants someone to handle all the hard choices, someone who can assuage all sorrows, someone who can guarantee that the sun will never die. And if Max can't be that thing, then Carol has no idea what to hold on to. There is a chilling insinuation that Max is not the first King to come to the island, and that Carol has a terrible way of dispatching Kings who displease him, and there are stretches that are genuinely scary, especially for younger viewers.

I think the film does an amazing job of externalizing the emotional turmoil that makes up much of the inner life of any child, particularly one who is struggling with things they have no control over like loneliness and anger and fear. I think it is a film about childhood and not necessarily a film for children. Both of my sons have been raised with the book as a constant presence in their lives, but they hadn't seen the film.

When Toshi saw the film on my stack by the TV in the office, he asked if he could watch it with me.

Because it had been a while since I saw it and I'd forgotten quite how hard it hits, I said "Sure," and so on a Saturday evening, I put the Blu-ray in and both the boys joined me in the office.

So far, I don't think Toshi or Allen have had to deal with any serious bullying, but Toshi's had some typical schoolyard hassles with other kids, and it always surprises me how truly rotten kids can be to each other, and how casually it happens. I don't even feel like it's a conscious thing most of the time. I think kids just test their abilities, and sometimes that means seeing how they can whip up other kids into a frenzy by picking on some perceived weakness in someone else. Toshi doesn't seem to have a filter yet to prevent people from hurting him emotionally. He wears his feelings very close to the surface, and he seems to really wrestle with some of the biggest feelings he has. Not often, but just enough that I worry sometimes that people are going to find it very easy to hurt him in the future.

Watching the opening sequences of the film, everything before Max runs away from home, both of the boys were quiet. Normally they settle into a movie, and they can't help but joke and chat as they do so. That wasn't the case with this film. The only thing that either of them said during that entire opening stretch was after the big kids jump on Max's snow fort and smash him in the process. Toshi got closer to me on the couch and said, "That's terrible. Those kids are terrible."

Then a few minutes later, after Max intentionally floods his sister's carpet and his mother realizes what he's done, she starts to yell at him about causing "permanent damage," and Allen offered a somber, "Man, he's gonna be in trouble."

Once Max reached the island, I think the boys were expecting a typical kid movie adventure, and so when the film didn't start to hit any of those familiar beats, I could see that it set them on edge. The introduction of Carol, Gandolfini's character, plays him as a figure of menace until the last possible moment, and we see a lot of him in silhouette. Allen held my hand, squeezing as hard as he could, and at one point, he said, very quietly, "He's very mad. Someone made him so mad."

A respected critic and commentator for fifteen years, Drew McWeeny helped create the online film community as "Moriarty" at Ain't It Cool News, and now proudly leads two budding Film Nerds in their ongoing movie education.

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That's a powerful word I think is misused often. Trust is an agreement, a pact, bound in honesty. It's a tremendous word.

When it comes to how we shape our lives in what entertainment we engage, whether it's as an active participant or a more passive role, in different avenues such as sports or film or hobbies, etc... trust is important in who we allow to guide us.

We have to trust our coaches in sports, or trust our children's coaches. We have to trust the person teaching us to fish. And yes, because our hard-earned money is so important that almost all of us can't afford to waste a dime, I find that trusting a film critic is very important because film is such an important part of my life, just as important as sports.

So I trust you, and many of us do, because of your honesty as much as your individual tastes. We may not always agree with what you have to say about a film, but we always know that unlike so many others out there, you come by those tastes and views honestly. You're not pimping for page views. You're not writing to whip up nerd rage to keep ad revenue flowing.

When you write about your kids, it offers us a window into who you are and what informs the critic we trust. It what makes so many of us like you, and trust you. For many of us, especially myself, films were the province of "Dad," not so much of "Mom." So you sharing these stories is personal on a lot of levels, and I'd be sorry to see them stop.

Here's what I don't get... these people who say, "I don't want to read about your kids," do they not realize that to actually read about your kids, they would have to click a link and then... READ a story they have no interest in reading in the first place?

I don't get it. It's like the people who hate watch Keith Olbermann or Bill O'Reilly. Or they people who hate watch How I Met Your Mother. Yeah, we get it, Ted's a douche, but guess what, some of us can look past it because we just want to see the show to the end, so stop ruining it for the rest of us!

I just don't get these people.

Anyway... place me in the, "Please never stop Nerd 2.0," list. The honesty is refreshing.

Do not ever give up on this series. It's brilliant and very very important. There may be other columns that discuss movies and children but none of them deal with the topic on such a personal level and, therefore, with such honesty. The Film Nerd 2.0 articles are the main reason I have your site bookmarked and they make a difference in how I approach films with my own kids.

Oh, and please try to work things through with your wife in a constructive manner. Yelling is generally not a more effective communication method than talking. :-).

I'm a lurker, not a regular commenter, because I usually don't have anything to add to the conversation. It will probably be a long time before I leave another comment. And I don't have anything to add to what the commenters above and below have said.

But it would be a shame if you stopped writing the Film Nerd 2.0 columns. They are wonderfully honest and thought-provoking and like nothing else I read. The first pieces of yours I read were the Star Wars columns, and I stuck around because of how much I enjoyed reading them. I love these columns, and based on the comments so do the overwhelming majority of your other readers. So, please, don't let a few people convince you otherwise.

Drew, I love this series and I trust your judgement. Please don't stop. I started following you during your Moriarty days at AICN. Sometimes I'll read your reviews for movies I have no intention of seeing, just because I like your voice. (The only other movie critic I've read that way was Roger Ebert.) Ignore the complainers.

Dear Mr McWeeney, in times when sites like rottentomatoes or metacritics provide the user with amounts and amounts - albeit more or less sophisticated - "typical" reviews from critics and colleagues, which all I'm sure have their legitimation too, your column offers truly unique insights into children's and their father's minds and their education and development in motion picture.
I don't have kids, but hopefully will someday, and in a world where the medial surplus is growing every day, I'm glad to find if not concrete guidance , so at least clues for my own handling with this complicated matter within your column.
Oh, and also it's helluvalot of fun to read (most of the time).
So thank you for Nerd 2.0. Please keep it on

Bravo for writing this! As a single father of three amazing girls and a total movie nerd I learn so much from movies like this and others how important it is to cherish this time with them and to be open to correction in whatever form it comes. Absolutely loved this article. Thank you!

When people say art criticism is dead or irrelevant, I tell them to read your column. This particular piece is a great example of what writing in new media can be. I tend to gravitate to art that helps me reflect on my life. You are one of the few writers who successfully writes about that experience. Thanks for Nerd 2.0 and all the other pieces you've done.

Great Nerd 2.0 as always, Drew. For the people who don't like the articles about your kids, don't read the articles about Drew's kids. I personally think they really ground the blog. It also builds perspective into every article even when you don't mention Toshi and Allen. I always wonder after reading one of your reviews how your kids would like it.

Drew, despite your self-admitted volcanic temper, you always come across to me in your writing as a decent human being. In fact, I can see blowing your top as the normal reaction of a humane person to cruelty and unfairness.

Great job, Drew. I'm also a movie geek and the dad of a 6-year old girl (who loves Tangled AND Star Wars). I've also had the same internal conflicts, success, and mistakes over choosing films that entertain and challenge my kid. It's both helpful and moving to read of your experiences, unapologetically shared in such a public forum.

I appreciate your voice, your thoughtfulness, and your sincere effort to care for your boys. And to make them love movies as much as you do. Keep it up, Drew.

Been reading you since the Aint it cool Days. IMO Film nerd 2.0 is the best thing you've written. When I typed Film nerd 2.0 into the search engine not to long ago and it produced no results (prob just a glitch) I immediately assumed you removed them all to compile into a book. And I was more than ready to purchase that book when it came out. Seriously, these columns are the opposite of irrelevant. They're some of the best, most unique film criticism online. Screw the haters on this one. If anything, do more!

I'm writing this w/out having read all of this article yet. I'll likely reply again after finishing, but wanted to jump in as before you even got to the heart of this piece (your sons' reactions to the film) you were already 'speaking' to me. As a father of an 11 year old boy (who would be quick to reprimand me and say he's eleven and THREE QUARTERS), I totally get what you're saying about how much your sons are a part of every facet of your world. It continually blows my mind how different I am after becoming a dad, and as a fellow movie nerd who's hardwiring has also been rewritten post-childrearing, I not only understand you but am really interested in this column. Count me as one who would LOVE to see more of this! Things I've already experienced (you introduced your sons to Star Wars several years after I did, and it was fascinating and hilarious to read about your sons' similar reactions) as well as things I haven't yet.I hope you tell your readers who dislike this column to (politely) fuck themselves and remember that the vast internet wilderness runs many paths that don't all need to be traveled if one doesn't want to!

I don't know who it is that is telling you to stop incorporating the kids into your writing, but they must be purged from the world with a cleansing fire. Metaphorically speaking. Also literally speaking. Fire has been used for worse.

Bravo!! Honest and brave. Having a son of my own. The thoughts of how to do exactely what you try - to control anger - if that has been an issue before. That is something i've thought alot about. Not anger towards him off course. But as you say anger in general. If anything the home of the family should be the shield from all the anger in the world where kids feel safe. And i just love how this colum is about almost everything BUT the film itself. Yes it's their reaction to it. But it's more and that is what i find the most interesting to read about. Movies are made to touch us on an emotional plan, thats the idea of every piece of entertainment. Some are just rollercoasters or "junk-food" and some manage to dig deeper and touch us, and perhaps makes us connect the movie to some experience we've had ourselves - emotionally. To read this colum is to watch the emotional evolution of two kids, as well as their father - since well, we only really grow up when we have kids of our own. I find it a privilige to read about. And i absolutely plan to do something similar with my own son, when he has the proper age.

Where The Wild Things Are is a great movie and the fact that it spoke so meaningfully to you and your kids says a lot. Spike Jonze should be very proud of it. And please ignore those who ask you to scale back or not do these wonderful pieces. The Film Nerd 2.0 is one of the very best things I get to read on the web.

Wonderful article. One of your very best. I'm not a father (not yet, anyway) so I can't completely relate but reliving these films with your children puts them in a fascinating light, one that I haven't seen documented like anywhere else. Everytime you post another part of this series, I feel the need to revisit the film in question. I definitely want to rewatch WTWTA.

Forget the naysayers who believe that all your blog is good for is simply film reviews, nothing more. If that was all it was, it would be okay but that's not why I read your writing. You are sometimes at your very best when you can express how the entertainment you digest affects you personally and I've read inspiring articles not just limited to film but books and games as well. There's genuine personality and smarts and humanity behind those pieces, something that I (and many others) can relate to.

In a sea of critics and film writers, having a distinctive voice must be treasured. Keep up the good work. It's got you this far and I can't wait to see where you take us next.

It's strange, I'm 31 & in a long term relationship, and we have talked about kids & how much we want them but it's just not the right time. But also, I often don't like it how a few of my friends have become obsessed with their children like nothing else matters, and all you see of them on social networking & all they talk about is their kids... And it worries me that perhaps when we do soon have kids that I'll turn out that way too, and this fear has probably also held us back.

But then your column just totally reassures me every time I read it that that doesn't have to be the case. Like yours, my life both professionally & personally revolves around watching and experiencing film. And for you to be able to bring your children into the process of experiencing film and writing about it, giving you new perspectives on film, and also as a way of sharing your often proud moments as a father with your readers, it's really great to read, and there isn't really anyone else doing it right now. But also when it produces moments like this where you're able to share very life-changing moments while watching a film with your young fellas, it's really very inspiring.

You have in many ways reassured, inspired and excited me to be a father with this column, and I really thank you for that.

Keep it up!

And I can't wait to read the first time you share a "real" horror film with your kids... That was when I first became obsessed with film as a kid, and I'd like to see your guys' reactions.

I have a three-year-old daughter, and another girl is baking in the oven.

This Film Nerd entry *wrecked* me.

I can't even begin to articulate its resonance for me, my personal connection to it, so I'll just thank you for the courage it must have taken to lay out something so honest, so searingly confessional.

This is why movies matter: to each one of us individually, and to all of us together.

Anyone who's saying they just want to "read reviews" and doesn't want your articles is missing the point of great film criticism -- to engage others in a conversation of film. You're doing that with your kids, and it's fascinating to get to eavesdrop. My son's only 20 months right now, so we're limited to Elmo and Barney at the moment, but I bookmark this site as a reminder of how to properly engage him with what he watches (but maybe I already made a mistake with Elmo and Barney).

I had a father who was big and loud and had a terrible temper too. Congratulations on being brave enough to have this conversation and start the process of changing how you relate to them now. I was in my mid-thirties before I was able to have a real relationship with my father because of his actions while I was a child. Stick with it :)

I'm late to this extraordinary piece, I didn't catch it back on October 1 and clicked on the link in your review of "Her." I'm glad that I read it and especially when I did - because as I read it this morning I felt very sharp parallels with my own situation (two young boys, two parents with tempers in a difficult-to-borderline troubled marriage) that came to a head just in the past two days. I read this as I was alone and it just sank in and made me think hard about what I was doing and what I'm going to do next. This is journalism at its best. Thank you.